Sunrise, Sunset
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day one hundred and twenty-five: Sunshine girls 6 Rachel and Quinn go back home, still thinking about the picture, and they ask their parents.


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a second cycle, and then a third, fourth, and fifty cycle. Now here's cycle 6!_

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**"Sunrise, Sunset"  
Rachel & Quinn  
Sequel to Divergence, Sunshine, Beams & Rays, Solar Eclipse, and Let the Sunshine In**

The half-revelation from Quinn had effectively put a stop to any further questions from Rachel. The rest of the day had gone by, and they'd both gone home. The picture and the Sunshine Girls were still with them.

When Quinn got home, she could hear her mother in the kitchen. She just went up to her room and shut the door. She changed out of her uniform, and she lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She was more tired these days, which she knew was normal. It didn't make it any easier, since it allowed all those lingering thoughts to smack her in the head.

She turned her head to look at her nightstand, where she'd put her books on the way in. She pulled on the top one, wedging it open to pull out the picture. She laid her head back and stared at it.

She could only remember that time to a degree. She was just a little kid, it was ages ago. But staring at it, seeing how happy they both were… she could kind of remember how it made her feel, being with her when they were friends. She knew she couldn't wait to see her, and it took a lot of convincing for them to part ways.

Knowing of Rachel as this friend she'd had, she wondered what it would have been like, having her still by her side as she went through all this, with the pregnancy and…

She sighed, dropping her arms back, closing her eyes for a moment. She wasn't going to let herself go there.

There was a knock at her door, and she sat up, crossing her legs in. "Yes?"

"Can I come in?" her mother asked.

"Sure," she answered, reaching to push her hair behind her ears as her mother entered. She put on a smile.

"Sweetheart, are you feeling well?" she asked, getting a look at her. She touched her forehead, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"I'm fine, just a little tired is all," she promised her.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Quinn nodded. "Alright," she nodded back. As she looked down, she spotted the picture in her lap. "What's this?" she picked it up. When she saw the girls in their tutus, her face melted into a smile. "Where did this come from?"

"Rachel," she explained, watching her mother's face. "She brought it to school today; she wanted to know about it, I…" she paused. "Mom, do you remember when we… when we stopped being friends?" Mrs. Fabray nodded, looking down at the picture in her hands. "How did I…" she tried to explain, and her mother understood.

"It wasn't easy. You know I always thought you two would make up, get over it, but…" she shook her head. She smiled again, looking back to the picture. "But oh…" she nodded. "These were good days." She gave Quinn the picture back. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour. You want to help me with dessert?" she patted her knee.

"Sure," Quinn smiled. "I'll be right there." Her mother nodded and headed out. Sitting on her own, she was left to the picture, and what her mother said… She didn't know how to handle it. So for now, she put the picture down and went in the kitchen, to make dessert with her mother.

At the Berry home, even with the picture now in Quinn's possession, it was all still on her mind. What had she done? Whatever it was, it had formed into a tear, right between them, splitting them apart… but they were just kids… could it be that bad? So why couldn't she remember?

She wondered if she could pull a memory out of something, now that she knew to look… but what? They'd moved since then, so she couldn't rely on that… unless…

She went back up to the attic, to the boxes from the old place. She knew one important thing… her fathers loved to take pictures, and she loved to be taken in pictures. She'd seen plenty of pictures from her childhood over the years, but never of her and Quinn. But if they were so close, then those pictures had to exist. Maybe they'd kept them boxed away for her sake, because of what had happened.

As she went through the boxes, she figured she might as well sort through them, get it done. She was so into it, when she pulled a smaller box out of the last one and spotted the photo albums underneath, she froze… she'd almost forgotten what she was seeking in the first place.

Everything else had been put away, so she sat down and pulled out the photo albums. As expected, there were a number of them. She didn't know what she'd find, if she'd even get… anything. Going through the first one, there were no pictures of Quinn, just her with Pop and Dad. It still made her smile… how could it not, with a couple of goofballs like those two.

It wasn't until about midway through the second album that she turned the page and came across… red and blue tutus… It was everywhere now. She didn't know what to think, she just watched all the pictures…

It was a whole bunch of events, always the two of them. There were some of them, it was clear the two of them had no idea they were being photographed, too busy 'plotting.'

She saw one… they were doing that hand thing, the one Quinn had showed her earlier. Seeing it again now, in this context, it was starting to remind her… it was still a lot of blurry flashbacks, but still it got clearer.

She heard sounds from downstairs – her fathers were home. She put it all back in the box and carried it out of the attic, into the dining room. When they saw her, Pop and Dad smiled.

"I told you she couldn't wait until this weekend," Pop told Dad, who nodded and headed into the kitchen. Rachel put the box down and looked at Pop. She'd shown him the first picture the previous night and, at the time, he'd said a lot of what Dad had said. When he saw the questions in his daughter's eyes that afternoon, he went up to her. "What's the matter?" he asked her. She hesitated.

"Was I mean?"

"What?" Pop frowned.

"I talked to Quinn today. I showed her the picture… she said what happened between us was my fault… I just can't remember." Pop nodded.

"You never told us what happened. All I know is it was right before the summer, when you were… six," he recalled. "But honey, I'm sure you weren't 'mean.' You don't have it in you," he hugged her close. She hummed, smiling up at him after a moment.

"Thanks, Pop."

"My pleasure. Now how's the attic?" he smirked.

"Spotless," she announced.

"That's my girl," he nodded. She laughed, grabbing the box to take it into her room.

She'd gone through each album, putting them on a shelf so not to leave them lying around. The biggest impression she got was how she could understand perhaps… Quinn didn't want to dwell on it, tarnish the memory. She'd leave her be for the moment. The pictures were already so much more than she could have hoped for.

The next morning, at school, she stood at her locker when she sensed a presence next to her. She looked over and saw Quinn was there. Before she could say a thing, Quinn pulled her hand up and placed the first picture in it. She gave a small nod and walked away, keeping to herself the fact she'd scanned it first.

Rachel put the picture in her locker so she wouldn't lose it and could take it home, with the albums full of red and blue glory.

THE END


End file.
